


Though The Garden Lay Fallow

by CourierNinetyTwo



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/F, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 01:13:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourierNinetyTwo/pseuds/CourierNinetyTwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the war, two lost asari find each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Though The Garden Lay Fallow

Lesuss was supposed to have been abandoned.

Shiala had patched into the communications of an asari patrol ship from her shuttle and listened from her shuttle. A monastery. It almost sounded peaceful. She wanted somewhere with the architecture she knew, without the people who knew her. After the Reapers, after watching Zhu’s Hope die one by one, Shiala wanted nothing more than solitude. She could live and die in a monastery, where her nightmares and old Prothean whispers would only disturb the air.

The spaceport was nearly overgrown with disuse, but when Shiala stepped off the dock, she saw Thessian roses.

—-

Farming was grueling work with Lesuss’ soil, but she had Ian and Macha’s memories to guide her through it. The rations she had retrieved from the houses near the monastery would last for a matter of months, but Shiala didn’t think her body would give up that quickly.

The faint sound of footsteps startled her from digging. She reached for her pistol and went still; after the Thorian, hallucinations had simply become part of daily life. Her senses lied constantly.

What she didn’t expect was a matron in a nearly clean dress, holding an assault rifle with the safety on.

—-

Falere was even quieter than the wind. Shiala could lose track of her in the monastery’s arching halls if she wasn’t paying attention.

She never asked where the evidence of the Reapers’ slaughter had gone. It was clear in the garden, where emerald leaves and royal blue petals flourished, despite the planet’s intent. Graves for asari had always been as communal as their homes.

The word never crossed her lips: Ardat-Yakshi. Falere never looked at her with hunger, even if their hands brushed while washing before a meal.

Even when Falere held her in the middle of the night.


End file.
